


Seams

by spellhaunt



Category: 9 (2009)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Gen, Pre-Canon, Prequel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-06
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:26:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27917461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spellhaunt/pseuds/spellhaunt
Summary: Everything living has died but the Machines still roam, and 1 is determined to keep himself and the other stitchpunks safe. But not everything in their new-found Sanctuary is as under control as he would like... A prequel of sorts to the movie "9", exploring what might have happened in the days/months before 9 woke up.
Relationships: 1 & 2 (9), 2 & 5 (9), 5 & 6 (9), 5 & 7 (9)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 13





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I adore this film... and have really wanted to contribute something to the pool of fanworks from its dedicated fanbase so... Here it is. Well, the start of it anyway. I try to keep it canon-compliant but I am mostly writing with my own theory in mind which takes into account the original short that inspired the feature film. I do also lend from the very talented AstroGriffin's theory about 1 over on Tumblr which you can read [here](https://astrogriffin.tumblr.com/post/181076043085/9-theory).

The stitching was the most arduous part of the process. Threading the needle, sewing in such fine, strong seams; it wouldn’t do for his creations to fall apart at the slightest knock or tear. Not when they were being released into such a violent world. 

All the while, a little shadow lingered at his periphery. Well-postured, craning its neck, tilting its head, and watching the Scientist’s every move. Unphased now by the bangs and booms rattling the shutters.

‘You want to know what I’m doing.’

‘I can see what you’re doing,’ his creation replied. ‘I want to know why.’

‘You’re to have company.’

1’s eyes narrowed into slits. ‘What for?’

‘You don’t want any?’

‘I never said that.’

The Scientist put down his handiwork with a sigh. He pulled back his chair and pushed away the great lens he used to see better with. 1 was unveiled to him then. He straightened, all pride, managing to look down on him despite being only a hand-span high.

‘What exactly is it you’re doing?’ 1 asked. ‘Why am I here?’

For a moment, the Scientist did not know what to say. He had never been a man of religion, but he understood at once the importance of separation between a creation and its creator. If there was a God, He would have to answer similar questions.

Questions for which there appeared to be no satisfying answer.

‘You can hear the turmoil outside,’ he said instead. ‘Sometimes, in life, we make mistakes. And it’s important to make them right.’

The Scientist had never wanted children either, and yet he supposed - even though the motivation was likely an unconscious one - the only reason to further life was to create a generation capable of improving upon the last one. Life was always to go on. What would be the point if they all just lay down and died? Questions he had once posed to science were murky with philosophy now that his own end was nearing.

‘With your birth, and the birth of others,’ he tried, ‘there might be some hope for a better future. A more ideal world than this one.’

1 lifted his head, his expression scornfully severe. ‘Then you’re shirking your responsibility.’

Such insight was a surprise. Until the Scientist realised it shouldn’t have been. If anyone or anything in this world was capable of seeing the true him, it was a creation born of his own spirit.

‘Yes,’ he said, turning back to his work. ‘But not without regret.’

He scooped up 2, his sack body limp in his palm. Lost in the rhythm of his sewing, he almost forgot that 1 was there. A quick check on him, and the Scientist could see he was taking a great deal of interest in their surroundings. 

After writhing out of his grip upon his awakening, the fixtures and the furniture had first captured 1’s attention. He seemed to want to understand the larger picture - where, and _what_ this all was. Now it was time to examine the details. His little feet clunked over the desk in a slow, pondering way. The Scientist tried to make that his focus, and not the heart-kicking explosions peppering the air outside.

Then 1 was quiet for such a long time, he had to tear his eyes away from his next project.

In his small, delicate fingers, 1 was holding the Talisman.

‘Put that down.’

1 swept a shrewd glance at him from over his shoulder, but did as he was told.

‘Is that what you use?’ he demanded. ‘To imbue us with your regret?’

The Scientist rubbed at his eyes, abandoning 2 once more to the safety of his desk. There was still so much to do and no way to guarantee the outcome. He would have to rely on his creations for that.

‘You’re observant.’

‘You have papers strewn everywhere. I’m quite capable of reading them. Exactly how many of us are there going to be?’

‘How many pieces do you think make up a human soul?’

1 lifted his chin, eyes sharp with scrutiny. As good an indication as any that he was not going to answer whether he knew the number or not.

‘I surmise nine,’ said the Scientist. ‘I trust that you are going to look after them and guide them, as my first.’

‘Guide them towards what?’

The Scientist reached across the desk, his creation side-stepping in alarm. Of course, his every movement must look to hold the strength of a giant to something so small. He picked up the Talisman, holding it in his fingers so that 1 could see the symbols etched on the surface.

‘I’ll have to entrust this to the ninth of you,’ he explained, ‘but there will be only so much I can say. It will be your job to prepare the others for what will be to come. They must be ready. You must not hesitate. It will be difficult, but all leaders must make tough decisions. Sometimes, one must be sacrificed for the good of many. My hope is that you will understand this and what I am trying to do.’

Hands clasped together, expression stern, 1 listened without comment. He was patient in hearing the details. Outwardly unmoved, although the Scientist could not presume what he might have felt within.

‘This device has already helped me to give the gift of my intellect to one of my greatest creations: The Fabrication Machine. As you guessed, I am now using it to give you each a portion of my soul. But what comes next is the most important part. I will require one of you to use this Talisman to separate the rest from the life I’ve given to them. There’s a ritual. If we can pull it off, there might be hope for this world yet.’

1 touched his sharp fingers to his own chest. He stared at the Scientist from across the desk, lowering his gaze in a moment of thought.

‘And what will happen to us? If I was to... _remove the life_ , as you’ve asked?’

‘That’s a fate all but one of us must share,’ said the Scientist. He put down the Talisman, hand trembling. ‘Our time then will be over.’

Although he ached, and his eyes were heavy with the need for sleep, the Scientist returned to his second creation. He pulled down the lens, magnifying his view of the tiny joints he needed to screw in, and the thin lines of thread to be pulled tighter.

1’s voice, distant-sounding and small, reached him from across the desk.

‘We’re only being made so that we can die.’

‘Not so,’ said the Scientist, although he could not bring himself to look away from his work. ‘If every living thing believed that, nothing much would get done, would it?’

When the silence became uncomfortable, he moved away from the magnifying lens to seek 1 out. His creation was sitting down at the desk’s edge, baring the neatly inked number at his back.

‘Heavy is the head,’ he offered solemnly.

1 angled to look at him, which the Scientist caught at the edges of his own view as he continued his most important work.

* * *

The cathedral doors had been barricaded from the inside. They all could see this after making their way in through a breach in the bricks. 1 tipped back the helmet they had used as cover, and it hit the floor with a dull clang as 2 and 7 lowered the injured one to the floor. He was lying on his side, shivering badly, but 1 could make out the number 5 delicately imprinted on his back.

‘What do we do?’ 7 asked, kneeling beside him.

She looked to 2. 

All of those who knew him did. 

His posture sagged a little as he considered the ask. Then, he carefully knelt down next to 7. She shuffled aside to make room for him; 2 offered a soothing squeeze to 5’s shoulder, leaning in close so that he could look him in the face.

‘If I’m to help you, I’ll need you to sleep,’ he said gently.

His fingers were already at the buttons keeping 5 together.

‘N-No.’ The other grabbed his wrist, halting him. ‘I don’t want to.’

‘You’ll be awake again in no time. I promise.’

They remained suspended at that impasse for several long seconds, 5 trembling and 2 wearing him down with his kindly look alone. Or maybe the pain and the fear had become too much. 5 let go of him, his vocaliser stuttering as 2 rolled him onto his back and unloosened the first of his buttons. 

1 watched with interest. If they could ‘sleep’, that was the first he knew of it. Rest, yes. Close their eyes and wait. But for as long as _he_ had lived at least, he had never achieved a true sleep. The Scientist had never mentioned it.

Although, there was a lot he had not mentioned. 1 had to wonder what conversations he’d had with the others upon _their_ awakenings.

A quick assessment of 5’s internals seemed to be enough for 2. He reached inside, watching his patient’s reaction to his fiddling and exploring. There was a snap, and at once 5 fell limp. His head tilted, his one remaining optic fluttering shut.

There was a ripple of shock out of the others. 8 held up his hands, turning away as though the display was too much. 

6, however, leaned in closer. 

1 was quick to yank him to a more respectful distance.

‘Will you need help?’

‘Yes,’ 2 answered as he redid the first of 5’s buttons. ‘Supplies.’

7 went straight to his side, a touch to his shoulder alerting him to her presence. 

‘What kind of supplies?’

Supposing 2’s work would be of a delicate nature, 1 beckoned to the others for their attention, dragging 6 along with him as he walked.

‘The rest of you, with me,’ he ordered, ‘We’ll only get in the way. Besides, there’s a lot of work to do if we’re to make this place safe.’

8 fell into a lumbering step at his left.

‘Yes, 8,’ 1 announced, ‘you can go about checking the perimeter. Make sure it’s all secure, that there aren’t any breaches - ’

‘Like the hole in the ceiling?’ he started.

This drew all of their attentions to the fighter plane lodged between the roofing beams, its propeller moved by the wind in a slow, creaking rotation.

1 rolled his eyes. ‘I mean the less _obvious_ breaches.’

With a shrug of his huge shoulders, 8 set off to do as he was told. That left 1 with 6, and the new arrivals: 3 and 4, he had to assume. They moved too quickly for him to determine which was which. Scuttling at an arm’s length away, they stopped to pick up every little chunk of gravel, pottery shard, and items otherwise of interest, sharing it between them, their eyes flickering obscurely.

‘Good,’ said 1, ‘the both of you can set about looking for anything that we can use to make this place more like home.’

The twins looked to him briefly before returning to their feverous searching. He was not sure they could speak. Perhaps they were like 6. Since meeting him, 1 had not heard his voice either. If he was not huddled in some corner hiding his face from them all, he was scratching lines and circles into any surface that would yield to his nib-like fingers. 

1 could hear the distant clangs and clunks of the Machines that were left as they roved the wastes outside. Every one caught 6 off-guard; he kept his head down, tugging at the tufts of wool at his scalp.

Although he did not outwardly show it, 1 was ready for some peace and quiet as well. If they were to live here indefinitely, there would have to be certain areas they could fashion into rooms fit for beings of their size. He would also like a place to retire from the others, and he was sure 6 would like that, too. It was nice that both of their needs had aligned in this way. If nothing else, he now had a good excuse to extricate himself from the morbid scene unfolding under 2’s fingertips in the middle of the room. 

‘As for us,’ 1 said to 6 as he led them behind one of the large pews, ‘we can work on looking for somewhere suitable to rest.’

6 nodded, but did not return his eye contact. 1 did not mind. He’d had enough of socialising for today, too.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the kudos, I appreciate it. I have a lot going on right now so I am finding lately, I hate everything I write... So I am just going to post... because posting is better than ruminating over-much, I suppose. Updates will be slow but I will keep trying.

He woke as though rising from a depth. Surfacing from under a weighted darkness, lured by warm light. A soft voice. Slow and deliberate. He couldn’t make any sense of the words. Then he remembered 3 and 4 were always silent. Somebody - or something - touched him, and his instincts worked before his mind could fully catch up. He was scuttling backwards but not going anywhere, only for the other in the room to suddenly be in front of him, gripping him at the shoulders, soothing him out of his fright.

‘There, there. Don’t panic.’

‘Wh-Where am I? Who are you?’

‘You don’t remember?’

5 went still. Now that his inner mechanisms weren’t ticking and thumping so madly, he could focus more on the facts. He and the twins had been found by others of their kind. They were trying to escape the Machines when…

Relief left him in a heavy, body-slumping sigh.

‘See?’ said 2. ‘Everything’s fine. You’re safe now.’

2 slipped down off the bed, stepping aside to give 5 room to rise. But he didn’t feel too much like moving. There was a blank space to his left. He was afraid of what would happen if he touched it. All he could imagine was a cavernous emptiness.

‘Do you need help getting up?’

5 couldn’t answer. The damage had been done, but he was still rigid with fear. He could hear the spatter of gun fire, the rough, panicked shouting of the soldiers, and the mechanical grinding of the towering machines. And those strange clouds… Everything living around them had wilted. 

_Thump. Crack._

5’s shoulders lifted involuntarily. Even if he closed his eye, he could never unsee the slackening collapse of the bodies. The towering advance of the Machines, the chaos of the battle -

‘Are you okay?’ 2 then asked him, drawing in closer.

‘Y-Yes,’ he said, trying to sound confident of the fact.

He shuffled to the edge of the bed.

There was so much furniture around him, and all of it aptly sized - made up of things that, to the soldiers, might have fit comfortably in their hands. An aluminium tin had been repurposed to hold sewing needles, iron nails, and other long implements; and the very bed he sat on was an old skating shoe. On the wall to his left, there was a pin on which balanced a pair of scissors, and small, half-stuffed cupboards crowded out of the corners, illuminated by the wavering flames of three squat candles. A tentative glance to the ceiling unveiled more sharp blades hanging from strings, and 5 flinched, struggling to adjust his depth perception in the absence of his other eye.

‘How long was I…?’

‘A short while,’ said 2 evasively. ‘It took us some time to find the materials I needed to repair you properly.’

He then vocalised a soft noise of surprise, holding up a finger in gesture for 5 to wait. From one of the shelves against the left wall, he recovered a shard of something reflective; it caught the burning candle wicks as 2 brought it forth. When turned on him, 5 could see someone was staring _through_ it. Not 2 - this one had two buttons at his chest like him, and a smooth, leathery patch covering the left side of his face. 

Then the realisation came.

5 reached out for the mirror piece, and 2 offered it kindly. He examined himself, his one-eyed gaze roving over his own image. He expected to _feel_ something. Shock. Horror. Nerves.

All he felt was numb.

Braver, he touched his fingers to the leathery patch 2 had sewn over the damage. His mirror-self copied.

‘I haven’t put one of us to sleep before,’ said 2, tugging gently at 5’s arm to encourage him to lower the mirror. ‘I knew you would wake, but I’m interested to know if you _feel_ any different.’ After easing the shard from 5’s hands, he set it on the bed. Soft explorative touches accompanied his questions. ‘Are you in any pain? Can you still see colours? Is there anything amiss you think I should know about?’

2 coaxed 5 to tilt his head, his optics wide and imploring.

‘No,’ said 5, embarrassed. ‘I mean, _no_ , it doesn’t hurt. At least not anymore -’

‘Well then? Is it done?’

1 swept through the curtain, and 5’s inner mechanisms grew taut. He had almost forgotten that these ones were strangers to him. Until he had left the Scientist, he had been unaware that there were things in this world - _beings_ \- that should not be trusted. He thought immediately of the twins; had they been safe without him?

‘I did what I could,’ 2 answered, ‘but he’ll need more time to recover -’

‘There _is_ no time,’ said 1. ‘We must set down the rules.’

‘Surely that can wait -’

‘And in the meantime, have you all running amuck, with no guidance, no _understanding_?’ 1 gathered his cape about him and made for the exit. 5 was sure he had not been dressed in such splendor before they were brought here. ‘Come,’ he ordered, ‘and bring that one with you.’

The way he jerked his head indicated that he expected to be followed. However, 2 remained still, and 5 was so nervous every part of him was frozen stiff. Only when 1 had disappeared through the gap in the curtains did 2 turn around, a hand out in offerance.

‘I suppose we’ve been summoned.’

2 brought them out of his workshop and into the main room. 5 recognised the heavy pews, little snippets of the moment after his injury blooming into his memory. Light from outside was pouring through the stained glass windows, dust motes twirling in the glowing rays. All around them, the church walls stretched into large arches, until the gaping hole in the roof, where an aircraft with crooked propellers blocked out the bulk of the sun. Great mounds of debris funnelled them to a deadend where 1 waited aside a metal bucket. 5 followed the ropes upwards, seeing that whilst he had been ‘asleep’, they had fashioned a pulley system to create a way of moving up and down the floors in the absence of stairs.

1 was not the only one there either. He had with him another, easily twice his width and height, the number 8 imprinted on his upper arm; he was busy driving 3 and 4 into the bucket. The twins challenged him with mute defiance, clinging to one another, and 5 felt flooded to the edges with relief. 

They were safe. As soon as they noticed him, they skirted around 8 to crowd the bucket’s edge, bright-eyed and waving.

5 ducked his head, shrinking behind 2 as they alighted, 1 close behind. When they were all closed in, the bucket gave a lurch, tilting in an uneven sway.

‘It’s all right,’ 5 heard 2 murmur as 8 pulled the bucket up, and up, and up.

When they reached the top, 1 and 8 herded everyone out. The twins sped ahead, entwining themselves with 7. She greeted them with open arms. 5 caught her shy smile as he and 2 approached, but he again sought solace in the floor, his chin to his chest. 

There was so much to say. A thank you to her for saving him would be a good start. But the words were dying inside of him. More than anything, he wanted not to be looked at.

‘ _Move_ it!’

8’s gruff voice erupted from his blindspot, and 5 tensed. He could only watch as another - 6 - was dragged from the sheltered alcove in the corner. He refused to leave go of a paper strip, ink-blotted and dripping from his fingers. With his greater strength, 8 hurled 6 up off the floor by the scruff of his neck, and tore the paper from him. 

‘H-Hey, wait,’ 5 blurted out.

2 gripped his arm to halt him.

Left unchallenged, 8 sneered and dropped 6 in the centre of the gathering.

They were all huddled now under a huge, ornate window. Purple stained glass was the background to a forlorn-looking angel, her gaze cast downwards as if to hold them all between her wings. A rough draught swooped through the church’s bones, the walls groaning.

1 rounded them, brandishing his hooked cane. A little bell suspended at the centre chirped with his every movement. He took a moment to count them all under his breath. Then announced,

‘Now that we’ve all found each other, I’d like to establish some ground rules.’

‘We don’t know that we’re _all_ found,’ 2 put in.

1 regarded him with a thin-eyed stare. ‘What is that supposed to mean?’

‘There could be more of us.’

‘Don’t be so ridiculous -’

‘How is that ridiculous?’ 7 challenged. ‘And shouldn’t we _all_ decide on the ground rules?’

5 wished for even a fragment of their courage. He caught everything in brief glances, his resting place the wooden planks at his feet. The twins were clinging to 7 either side, 6 sitting sullenly at her feet. He had his back to them all, the movement of his arm and the soft scritching noises afterwards suggesting he was carving something into the wooden planks.

Neither 1, nor anybody else, appeared to have caught on. 

‘There’s an order to all things for a reason,’ 1 was saying, his tone barbed. ‘I’m the first, and eldest. And so it makes more sense that I would be the one to set the rules and keep us in line. A group must have a leader. I see no better candidates among us than I.’

7 frowned, a small crease cutting above her eyes. ‘But -’

‘ _I’ve_ been alive the longest. None of you know a single thing about the world out there. By some _miracle_ we’ve survived the humans’ war against their Machines, but the danger is far from over. We have to establish our sanctuary, here. And lay low until all has gone quiet. Listen.’

He leaned on his cane, poised in anticipation as the church creaked and settled around them. 6 went still and tilted his head. A haunting sound then echoed through the walls, an unnatural, mechanical moan from somewhere far-off, accompanied by the metronomic clunking of a wandering Machine.

They all shivered, as if taken by a chill.

1 relaxed. ‘I only want to keep you safe. That’s my mission for as long as we’re here. The man that was there at my awakening said so himself.’

7’s tone was incredulous. ‘He said that?’

‘Unbelievable,’ 2 breathed. ‘You kept _that_ quiet.’ He stepped closer to 1 in his interest. ‘What else did he tell you? Anything of our nature? How we’ve come to be? What we were made for?’

‘Don’t be absurd,’ said 1, bristling. ‘Those are useless questions. He only told me what was important, and that happens to be keeping us all safe, and _alive_. So unless anyone has any more objections…’

5 shied from 1’s shifting gaze, the rest chafing under an uncomfortable silence. The twins, however, had just taken notice of 6’s floor art. Pale shavings littered the space around him, his assessing pause timed just right. As soon as 1 continued, 6 bent forwards to scratch out more lines.

‘Well then. Shall we begin?’ 1 gestured to them with a slow sweep of his cane. ‘The first rule: No one - not any one of you - is to leave this sanctuary without my permission. Not for any purpose. Do I make myself clear? We’re to wait here until all has gone silent -’

‘Or until one of those Machines walks right through us,’ 7 cut in wryly.

1 glowered at her. ‘As long as we’re quiet and remain hidden, they’ll have no reason to. I’ve been around the Machines longer than any of you. They react to movement. If we go scurrying around then they’re bound to find us. We can’t risk leading them here, so this is where we’ll stay until I say otherwise.’

Without missing a beat, 5 nodded in agreement. Staying still and staying hidden had become something of a speciality of his until 7 had come around. Not that he begrudged her of that. Had she not found him and the twins when she did, there was no telling what might have happened to them. There would have been no 2 to patch up any of their injuries for a start.

‘Good,’ 1 confirmed, since nobody was offering an alternative. ‘We’ve made some progress in making this a useful space, but there is more work yet to do. The second rule is that you will all be designated a job based on what I think you’ll be best at. I’ll summon you one at a time to discuss this.’

‘Well, do we get any _say_?’ 7 demanded hotly. ‘What if I don’t want to do the job you choose for me?’

8 sighed aloud, arms crossed over his chest. ‘Shut up already, before I make you.’

‘Make me then.’

He relaxed out of his stand-offish pose, fists clenched at his sides, clearly about to make good on his threat.

‘Now, now,’ said 1, stamping his cane on the ground, ‘that’s enough, both of you.’

6 flinched at the sound, a jaw-tightening screech following the arc of his finger through the floorboards. The twins were so close to him, it was hard to distinguish what was happening, or who was doing what, and so 1 reacted accordingly.

‘What are you two doing? Stop them at once!’

8 muscled his way between the trio. The twins scattered, seeking shelter with 7 as 8 disrupted 6’s unnatural attention to the floorboards by hammering his foot down in front of his face. Once, twice, three times, forcing 6 to scuttle backwards in fear. 

2 was not there to stop 5 this time. He rushed to catch 6, helping him onto his feet, shying away from 8’s furious stare as the other cuddled into him.

‘You’d think we could all convene for _five minutes_ without this - this buffoonery!’ 1 yelled shrilly.

‘Maybe if you put a muzzle on your _dog_ ,’ said 7.

1 swung his cane at her in temper, stopping just short of striking her. Her glower only intensified. She didn’t even flinch.

‘All of you,’ 1 then decided, ‘get out of my sight. I’ll be summoning each of you in turn to discuss your roles here. And _you_ .’ He gestured to 5 with the curved end of the staff. ‘I don’t know what kind of order you kept when it was just the three of you, but so long as you’re under _my_ roof you’ll follow _my_ rules. Keep those cursed twins in line, or _else_.’

He withdrew the cane but stormed over to snatch 6 by the arm.

‘6 is to stay here with me, lest you and your ilk corrupt him.’

Before 5 could say anything in defence of himself, 2 had come to usher him away, 7 and the twins there to help. She and 2 shared a telling look.

‘It’s okay,’ 7 said in answer to it, ‘I’ll see to them.’

2 accepted this, skulking after 1 who was busy dragging 6 away from everybody.

‘He - He can’t treat him like that,’ 5 managed.

But 7 was already ushering him on. She hooked her arm in his, leading them towards the bucket. 5 broke free of her at the edge of the long climb downwards.

‘Aren’t we going to stop him?’

His voice left hushed, timid under his nervous trembling. 7 levelled him with a determined look. A silent indication that, as just as such a cause was, maybe now was not the time for it.


End file.
